Some Assembly Required
by kikis2
Summary: N-JBC and Carter. Chuck and Blair are finally tying the knot, and Serena's upset that life moved on without her. C/B, S/B, S/Ca.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Too much coffee, hay fever and way too many Sudafed led to this. Did you know quotation marks and dashes don't come out if the file was saved in html format? My bad *blush***

**Warning: Language, adult themes, and unconventional romances. **

Serena was in Paris when the envelope arrived. The thick vanilla paper seemed to emanate a quiet malevolence. Her name and address so perfectly scrawled in that calligrapher's pen it almost made her sick. She knew who it was from. Had known it was coming. It left her feeling cold and uncomfortable in her own skin. She dropped it to the kitchen bench amongst the empty champagne bottles, unwilling to even turn it over.

Warm arms encircled her waist and a five o'clock shadow nuzzled roughly against the skin of her neck. "Come back to bed before our guest leaves," he tempted with a sweet kiss behind her ear.

"No." The letter had ended any thoughts or yearning for fun times. As if reading her mind a petite redhead slipped out of the couple's bedroom, slinky black dress hurriedly pulled back on and spiked pumps in hand. Carter had never had a type, and neither did Serena. Well, not unless "impervious" was considered a type.

"I'm off." The slight girl called brightly. She winked at Carter and blew a kiss Serena's way. Carter let out a theatrical groan of disappointment and Serena remembered to utter a goodbye.

Carter peered at Serena's blonde tresses curiously. Her tone was hard and icy and very _un _-Serena like. Her eyes remained fixed on the bench, not seeing, trying hard not to feel.

"What's in the letter?" Carter asked.

"A wedding invitation," Serena drawled, trying to make it sound like nothing.

Carter tensed, wondering if it was a letter from Nathaniel Archibald, wondering if his girlfriend was right now imagining the touch of another man. His arms tightened unintentionally around Serena's waist. Her ribs were almost visible through the thin night slip—the golden silk that was Serena's skin stretched slightly too tight around her lengthy frame. But no, Carter recalled seeing Archibald in Washington just a few weeks ago and he'd been screwing everything that stood still for long enough.

"Who's the lucky couple?" Carter managed to make "lucky" sound a lot like "tragic", but Serena didn't mind. Carter could run nearly as fast as her when commitment bells were ringing. It was one of his main attractions for her. It had never occurred to Serena that he'd never run from _her_.

"Chuck and Blair," she sang happily, lying with her tone, if not with her words.

Carter laughed, a rough but delighted sound. "I can't believe Waldorf managed to lock Bass down. That girl's like a one woman army."

Serena made a noncommittal sound. Who locked who down was a risky topic. She knew her brunette friends probably both believed they had won some battle over the other.

"So when do we have to be in New York?"

"_We_ don't." Serena turned around in Carter's embrace, slinging her arms around his neck carelessly. His handsome face was unnaturally flawless, especially considering the amount of alcohol (among other things) he'd consumed and the hours they'd spent teasing and pleasing their new friend instead of sleeping. Her finger curled a lock of his hair at the nape of his neck. "For some _absurd_ reason Chuck despises you and Blair dreams about drowning you," she told him brightly. "Now usually I'd ignore this, but as it _is_ their wedding they get a freebie—you're not coming."

When his bottom lip poked out a little she kissed him to soften the words, his rough lips encompassed hers immediately and thoughtlessly, rough regrowth digging at her tender skin in a way that sent shivers up her spine. She knew the only thing he was sad about was missing an opportunity to torment Chuck with improper remarks about his fiancée and stepsister. The war between Chuck and Carter was over half a decade old and legendary. What had started off with a bruised ego and suspicion had become more vicious with every meeting, even ending in physical blows long ago one night in Prague. Chuck had never hidden the fact that he found their relationship an affront to the natural order of things and was personally disgusted on her behalf.

Despite this, Chuck had called her a month ago, just after Blair had rung with her big news. If it was anyone else she'd say he pleaded with her to come back for the wedding, but it was Chuck Bass and he didn't plead—he bargained. Chuck had even agreed to be polite to "that poor excuse for a humanoid you call your boyfriend". But Serena didn't want Carter there. He was like a jigsaw piece that didn't quite fit into her Manhattan life. When she was little she had just folded the edges of jigsaw pieces and made whatever picture she liked, but for once she wasn't going to force these pieces together. She wanted a different picture altogether.

"Serena van der Woodsen going stag?" He scoffed.

Serena rolled her eyes. "I'm the maid of honour. My date will no doubt be whoever Blair wants it to be."

Carter narrowed cool grey into a smouldering look. He knew, just as well as she did, who would be best man. Carter was rarely jealous, too confident to consider other people competition. Serena found his grudge against Nate cute, if a little odd.

The wedding wasn't for months. Blair, being Blair, had sent her invitations politely early, leaving little room for people to manoeuvre their way out (not that anyone would dare). It was barely autumn but the wedding wasn't until the beginning of winter. Serena looked around the small apartment already thinking about leaving it behind; it was untidy as usual and luxurious enough that neither of them should have been able to afford it. Not on her casual modelling wage or his occasional sabotaging of the family business's rivals. But of course neither had even thought twice about the cost of buying an apartment with city views, in a city they sometimes liked, in a country they rarely lived in. Soon it would get chilly and they'd head south—Brazil or Indonesia, somewhere with beaches and midday cocktails.

When that letter had come, an unfamiliar ache had started deep in her chest. _Loss_. Serena had seldom known the feeling and it hurt all the more because of its rareness. She wanted to be happy for her friends: for Blair who deserved the world, for Chuck who would give it to her. But she wasn't. She was terrified. Her friends had been her life, her loves, her greatest strengths for so long this wedding felt like a nail in a coffin for every _could-have-been_. That ache begged her to go back to Manhattan, to scramble for the old pieces of her life, to tear off the edges, to force her own picture into being.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

Chuck waited impatiently in the airport next to the baggage carousels. Yes, he had people that were paid for these exact situations. But _no_, Blair's voice rang in his head. This was _Serena_. Blair was doing some wedding planning stuff he'd tried very hard not to understand, so Chuck Bass himself was forced to wait for his neve- on-time stepsister, while his driver sat in the limo doing _nothing_.

He spotted her before she spotted him.

He didn't wave, but watched while she searched the crowd uncertainly. A smile emerged when her gaze found his, a bright grin which still lit up the room. Unable to stop it, his lips curved in response to hers. He stared as she came towards him, all long legs, short skirt, and barely contained energy. He stared because it was Serena van der Woodsen and you'd have to be bound by a lot more than a ring not to stare. Her tan was deeper than he remembered and her hair just as messy. She was too thin, but apart from that, borderline alcoholism and living with a piece of trash seemed to agree with her.

Her bouncing stride ended just in front of him. Bright eyes roved over him, as if searching for any changes. Before he could move or say anything she threw her arms around him and pressed herself tightly against him, gushing _ohmygods_ and _itsbeensolongs_. For a moment he was lost in gold threads and some citrusy scent. Blair had been right, it was _Serena_. Nathaniel had flown in yesterday, Serena was finally home, and in under a week he'd be married to Blair. Every piece of the puzzle had fallen into place and it left him completely and utterly satisfied. He needed a cigar.

In the back of his limo they talked about inconsequential things. He complained happily about Blair's bridezilla moments (which had been _epic_), made bitchy commentary about UES scandals, while she regaled him with humorous (and occasionally horrific) tales of the situations she'd brought about in the dozen or so cities she lived. Neither one said the things they were thinking. It just wasn't time for "_don't get married!" _and "_why did you leave?!"_.

Chuck had missed her. He didn't miss a lot of people. In fact, he could care less if most of his "friends" disappeared tomorrow. But _SerenaChuckBlairNathaniel _their names were meant to be together, there should _never_ be space between them. While Serena was at Brown she'd spent every second weekend here and every holiday home or in the Hamptons. She'd graduated with a degree in media studies or communication or something and come home. And for a short time Chuck had been truly happy. It had been him and Serena drinking too much, Nate high, Blair scolding all of them (but kissing him anyway), falling asleep in the wrong beds, always waking up beside someone _right _. Slowly they had been building a perfectly imperfect life, and they were doing it together. But then she'd run (in the middle of the night, no goodbye, no explanation—that was Serena _running_), and Blair had gone quiet, and Nathaniel had just _gone_.

He'd paid people to find her, but he didn't have to. Within a month there were photos on the internet: Serena dancing on bars in Ibiza, kissing a prince in Portugal, modelling in Italy. By the end of the summer Carter _"that fucking" _Baizen was in some of the photos. By the end of the year he was in _every _photo. Three years later his repulsive face was still in the photos, Blair and Serena talked every now and then (fake laughs, real tears), when the couples' paths crossed it was all awkward regrets and desperate longing.

Soon he and Blair were going to be _real_, it was going to be the forever kind of real too. Nathaniel was moving up enough in his government job that he could live wherever he wanted, and his sister was sitting beside him—childish giggles and warm hand squeezes. He could almost touch _happy _again, and he was determined to make that the forever kind as well. No way was that_ fucker_ going to get in his way either.

**End Note: I started writing this at 3:30AM it's now nearly five. I'll post it, wake up in the morning (afternoon) and see if it's actually worth continuing, or just the drugged-up, overtired ramblings of my not-too-sharp mind. **


	2. Chapter 2

"You put the orchards with the hydrangeas?" Blair struggled not to shout at her idiot wedding planner. Her smirk was somewhere between condescending and dangerous. After a deep breath and a relaxation exercise (courtesy of her therapist) she gave quick instructions and clapped her hands till the incompetent man all but ran from the penthouse. She could have done everything (and done it better) by herself—would have, if not for her mother's constant needling.

She checked the time again and fought with herself not to check her reflection again. Chuck should have been here by now. If he was in 1812 getting Serena drunk...The elevator doors gave a warning ting and Blair steeled herself. Serena emerged from the elevator, and no amount of steeling herself could have stopped the sharp intake of breath Blair took after seeing her best friend. Serena wore a short mustard coloured dress with a drop waist and a brown bomber jacket. Her hair was shinier, her skin darker, her sapphire eyes even seemed brighter. It was vile and unjust, but completely unsurprising that age had only made Serena more stunning.

Serena's eyes watched her skittishly, as if uncertain of her welcome. But she strode confidently towards her anyway. Blair's lips curved into a small smile, her arms opened without thought when her friend neared. Blair didn't even rock back on her heels when the taller girl bounded into her arms; she was prepared for Serena's exuberant affection. But there was no preparing for the flood of bittersweet emotions. Tenderness made her clutch at Serena's neck and bury her face in coconut smelling curls, pain made her eyes close tight and her breathing shallow. She should hate this woman in front of her. She had tried with every bone in her body to despise Manhattan's Golden Goddess, but it was hopeless. After about the tenth drunken late night call, filled with tears and I-love-yous Blair couldn't even keep her anger anymore.

Blair pulled away first, but Serena grabbed at her hands. "Oh, your hair!" Serena exclaimed, running a dark lock through her fingers. Blair raised an eyebrow waiting for the blonde's opinion on her straight, almost chiselled looking pageboy. "It's gorgeous! So chic and mature."

Blaire rolled her eyes, but smiled. Of course Serena would say that. Serena had _always _said stuff like that. Blair's outfit choices were either _beautiful _or _enticing_. Her face _radiant_. Her body _delicious_. And it hadn't mattered if to the magazines she was Serena's nameless companion, because Serena had always looked at her as if she was everything. "I'm glad you could make it, S," Blair said, smoothing her friend's mussed hair back.

"Oh, as am I. But where is that piece of scum that tends to follow you around?" Chuck asked dryly, eyes narrowed in a mix of mirth and contempt. Blair looked at her fiancé, surprised for a moment. She hadn't noticed that he was beside Serena.

Serena made an exasperated sound before planting her hands on her hips and turning to glare at Chuck. "Honestly, Chuck! It was a poker game six years ago, when are you going to get over that?"

"Seven years, actually. And it was a little more than just a poker game," he replied darkly looking towards Blair, who just quirked her lips in acknowledgement.

"Oh god, not this again!" Serena groaned. "Can you imagine if Blair hated every woman you'd slept with? The city's brothels would be a blood bath! Just let it go!"

"I'll let it go when he stops fucking with your head!"

Blair watched on silently, amused by the years-old argument. Sure, Carter was an ass. She knew he was nowhere near good enough for Serena. He was an alcoholic, sexaholic, with a gambling problem only rivalled by the size of his ego. But he took care of Serena (as much as she would let him), loved her (when he thought she wasn't looking). And if he did neither as well as Blair, well, who could?

Chuck fought with Serena as if she was the sister he called her. Blair knew Chuck had been hurt when Serena left, even though he hid it well. And he'd never even known why. One day they'd been the four corners of their own private world, the next...Just broken fragments. Blair hadn't seen it coming, but when it did she was hardly surprised. Brutally disappointed, but not surprised.

They'd only had a few weeks together. A few weeks of covert kisses, of shy caresses and Blair had just begun to believe again in that bigger-than-the-ocean love those black and white films had promised. She remembered lying sweaty and exhausted, pillowed on Serena's hair, in Nathaniel's bed for some reason. Their hands the only thing touching. All her dreams and plans evaporated, and it was painless. She hadn't even missed them. They'd been replaced by a future that looked so _fucking bright_ that no fantasy could compare.

Prince Charmings looked dull beside the sun.

But the next morning she'd awoken and the sun hadn't risen. She'd gone back to Chuck and she'd taken back her perfect plans. And the perfection of it all had tasted like bitter ashes on her tongue.

"Your dress is ready with the measurements you gave me, but we still have the last fitting today so any alterations can be made," Blair broke into their pointless argument, simultaneously brushing off the cobwebs of the past.

Serena turned to her, heat evaporating from her gaze as if it had never existed. Serena nodded, biting her lip. Blair ignored the pain in her friend's eyes. "Then you can look at my dress, look over the guest list, cake, and seating arrangement." Blair continued listing items but trailed off when Serena's eyes couldn't get any wider and her expression couldn't look any more desolate.

"Welcome to my hell, sis," Chuck cut in, noticing the tension. Serena flashed him a weak smile.

Sighing Blair took the blonde's arm, comforting the girl who had left her broken and alone.

"Blair, I—"

"Shh, S. Not now." Blair could see Chuck looking on curiously. She had never told him the truth and she never wanted to. He wouldn't leave her. They were stronger than that. But just because he wouldn't leave didn't mean everything would be fine again. Knowing all this she still couldn't fool herself into believing he wouldn't find out. After all, he was _Chuck Bass_.

She took a deep breath and tried to do her visualisations. God, that therapist was so fucking fired.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

Serena struggled with the card key to 1812. She had meant to go back home (the one with her mother and Eric) but Chuck had been downing shots like they were going out of style and in trying to keep up she had become a little more tipsy than Lily would approve of. Blair had left early, but Nate had held his own. While she and Nate stumbled out of the bar in peals of giddy laughter, Chuck followed looking like he'd just stepped out of a shareholders' meeting. Chuck's alcohol tolerance was seriously uncanny. He'd given her permission to use his precious suite only with the promise that she'd finally be crawling naked between his sheets.

The door opened while she was still glaring at the little light, waiting for it to turn green. She took an unsteady step away from the door, her eyes trying to focus on the figure.

"Carter?" she asked in a sing-song voice.

"Hey, darlin'." He reached out and pulled her into the room gently. He was wearing a pair of bright purple boxers and nothing else. He enveloped her body in his, rubbing her arms and trying to warm her up.

"Neither of us has a good winter wardrobe anymore," he chuckled, close to her ear.

"Speaking of wardrobes," she slid a finger into his pants and snapped the waist of his boxers, "are you wearing Chuck's clothes?" she teased.

"And drinking his best scotch, and stealing the batteries to all his remotes," he added proudly.

"You two are pathetic," she giggled. "Waaaait!" She leaned back so that she could look up at him properly. He casually wrapped an arm behind her back before she overbalanced. "You're not supposed to be here!" She accused in a voice too high and dreamy to contain any real heat. She looked around the room trying to clear her head. "How'd you even get in here?"

"Blair told me you'd probably head here and gave me the spare key."

Serena gave an exaggerated gasp before breaking into laughter. "Someone's going to be in the dog house when Chuck finds out," she chirped. And then she laughed again, trying to visualise her friend inside an actual dog house.

Carter smiled indulgently pushing back blonde curls that hung in odd places in front of her face. "I could tell that this wedding and coming back had you unsettled. I figured you could use the moral support." He shrugged. "Fuck Bass."

Serena's blue orbs gave a slow blink. She wasn't sure he was meant to be here. His puzzle piece didn't fit into this picture. But neither did hers anymore. Blair wouldn't look her in the eyes, and had positively run from her as soon as they were alone. It had left her feeling dejected and her heart a little achy. She knew she deserved worse treatment, but it didn't stop the hurt. Leaving had broken her, but she'd never expected coming back would do the same.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," she told him honestly, starting to get undressed.

"I bet Waldorf's already given you your marching orders," he said, helping when her dress straps got caught in her hair. "What's Satan's bride got on the itinerary?"

"Well, I've got to pick out hairstyles for each of the bride's maids that make them look good, but not _too_ good."

He watched as she finished getting undressed, dropping her clothes in a pile where she stood. "I'm probably not going to be a lot of help with that," he said blandly, barely concentrating on her words.

"Nonsense," she ruffled his dark hair till it was a fluffy mess, "you have excellent taste in hairstyle. But first on the list is a shower," she said sniffing her hair and wrinkling her nose.

"Ah! Well that I can help with," he said wriggling his eyebrows for a comically sleazy look. He quickly pulled Serena up till she could wrap her legs around his hips and rest her arms around his shoulders.

"But you're already clean," she pointed out, nipping his shoulder to prove her point.

Carter walked them towards the en suite. "Well you'll just have to get me dirty, princess."

For the night she let Carter wash all the complicated stuff down the drain. She sunk into the easiness Carter always seemed to offer, glad that some pieces would always fit.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm all better, yay! **

**Warnings: Male strippers, femslash in the second half and language throughout (I can't help myself even though it's probably OOC). **

The main event had finally arrived. Chuck made miniscule adjustments to his plaid bowtie. Sure Blair would argue that the wedding was generally considered the headliner, but he was a Bass and for him the main event would always be decided by a breast to nudity ratio.

As the best man, Nathaniel had planned the entire bachelor party. Once Chuck would have wondered if Nathaniel was qualified for the job (Chuck's standards for strippers were _exceptional_), but Nathaniel's last few years in Washington had been an impressive show of debauchery and sleaze. The wedding was not in the morning but two days away. What sort of an idiot would get married the day after a bachelor party? The only problem was—

"Bass." The too-confident voice greeted.

Carter's smirking face met his eyes in the mirror. Carter was leaning on the doorway—bastard always found a way in where he wasn't welcome. Somehow Carter _fucking_ Baizen had slimed his way into the bachelor party. Blair had been rather insistent about the whole thing.

"I thought the maids had already taken the trash out," Chuck sniffed dismissively. He really wasn't planning on spending the rest of the night sparring with Baizen. However amusing it might be, he had made certain concessions to his wife-to-be.

"They seem to have been missing a lot of that lately," Carter returned, looking at him pointedly.

Chuck gave a small sneer that could have been mistaken for a smile. "Now, now, Baizen, I'm willing to pretend for the night that you're not just the filth clinging to my sister's skirts." Chuck turned back to the mirror checking his outlandish suit once more. "After all, tonight is an important rite of passage." Chuck was feeling rather charitable; comforted by the knowledge that Baizen's days were numbered.

Carter watched him through languidly lowered lids. "From bachelorhood to fully whipped?"

Chuck turned back to Carter, a sickly pleasant smile in place. "Unlike yourself, of course: stuck in a city you're less than welcome in, with people you can't stand—all because Serena blinked those big blue eyes. At least when my 'whipping' takes place Blair's wearing my diamond." It was little more than a guess really. Chuck watched Carter's face, noting the almost imperceptible flaring of the nostrils. _It was true_. Carter was just another one of Serena's poor, deluded victims. Blair had said as much, but it had been hard to believe that Carter _fucking_ Baizen had fallen so hard for the golden mess that was his sister.

"Well your diamond's not bad, but I can certainly vouch for the fact that she'd look better in my shirt," Carter drawled in that ridiculous Southerner-cum-Euro accent that women seemed to inexplicably like. Chuck shoved his hands into his pockets to stop from smashing his fists into that arrogant son-of-a-bitch's mouth.

_Gone, gone, gone_. Carter Baizen was _so_ gone. Chuck flashed a smirk, biting his cheek to hold in the words that wanted to tumble out. This had to be done right. He'd spent three nights this week getting Serena (and inconsequentially Nathaniel) completely wasted. Pour some apple juice in a shot glass and call it hard liquor—monkey see, monkey do. Though to be honest, his fairer headed friends gave monkeys a bad name.

Serena had managed to keep the reason for her departure under wraps, which wasn't completely odd. If Serena spilled deep-dark secrets every time she got drunk she'd be banned from half of Europe. However, his dear step-sister had let a few things spill.

It was becoming clear that whatever had caused her to leave: Blair had known—had maybe even played a part in it. It wasn't exactly surprising. Blair's closet was probably littered with Serena's discarded skeletons. But it did add another layer to the mystery.

He'd also managed to detect a fair amount of ambiguity about Serena's relationship with Baizen, which he'd found even less surprising. He was now certain of his ability to manipulate the couple. But Serena was unpredictable. She could laugh off things that should be devastating, but things that he'd find little more that an inconvenience could send her unravelling. No, he'd have to play with the less-attractive half of the duo.

And almost accidently the perfect weapon had fallen into his lap. Two nights ago Chuck had been watching the antics of his blonde, drunken counterparts, almost ready to call it a night. When through giggles and hiccups Serena had told Nathaniel of Carter's 'silly' jealousy. Serena's had laughed about the big joke and poor Nathaniel had been all wide eyes and fake toothy smiles.

Chuck couldn't help the cocky grin that he flashed Baizen as he walked into the dining hall. Yes, _yes_. _Why on Earth would you be jealous of the man Serena nearly sacrificed her greatest friendship for?_

It was perfect—a sign from the gods (or somewhere further south).

It would begin tonight. In less than ten minutes, men were going to burst through the doorway, rough him up a little before blindfolding him and taking him to a secret location (a discreet townhouse five blocks away). The basement would be filled with an oxygen bar and some of Scandinavia's greatest sex shows. (He'd trusted Nathaniel, just not enough to leave his plans _completely_ unmonitored). And after they were all a little drunk and even more horny, Chuck would give Nathaniel a few cues and like clockwork the boy would start reminiscing about Serena: the time she let him cup her breast in the boathouse, those naked body shots in the V.I.P room, that summer after college when...Well, it didn't really matter. Like a million times before, Nathaniel would start his school-boy crush bullshit and Carter would be there to hear the whole thing.

The seed would be planted.

Chuck suppressed a grin as men in tuxedos and balaclavas rushed towards him.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

Blair had already concluded that Charlotte Green was the dullest person on Earth. Blair looked past the forty-something bleach-blonde housewife and watched a 'naval officer' unsuccessfully attempt to get Nelly Yuki's hands on his rather unseemly bulge. Blair had drunk more in the last few hours than she had in the whole of last year. She wasn't drunk, but tipsy was somewhere in the distant past. The night had been one embarrassing situation after another. Of course Serena would turn her bachelorette party into _Girls Gone Wild in Prada_. Hazel and Iz were making absolute fools of themselves with the 'firemen'—sure she'd done the same thing, but that was Serena's fault.

Serena had gently placed the headband with a small veil onto her head, and from then on it had been a dizzying array of barely clothed biceps and gyrating hips in her face. The worst had been when they wanted her to go up on stage and sit in that little wooden chair. She'd given them a glare that would have sent anyone with even basic survival instincts running, yet the chiselled blonde had just shook his head and held out his hand. Blair had ignored him, pointedly staring at her French tips. But then Serena had been there tugging at her hand, all innocent eyes and mischievous smile. And because she was Blair and that was Serena and they were _BlairandSerena_ there was no option but to follow.

Blair had refused to sit down, even when Serena pouted, stamped her foot and crossed her arms like a child. _"Can you even imagine what's been done on that seat?" _she'd hissed. Serena had thought on this for a while (her thinking skills already drowned in tequila), before falling into the chair and in an instant of tangled limbs Serena had pulled Blair sideways onto her lap. Blair quickly threw an arm around her friend's neck so she didn't fall. Blair sent a scorching look to all her inebriated 'friends' who dared cheer at this moment of crassness.

She'd wanted to just leave, to just shrug off Serena's arms and walk off the stage. But Serena was so temptingly close, long tanned legs, pert breasts pushed up against her side—so close her voice was hot and damp in Blair's ear, "Fun, Blair. You're here to have _fun_."

So Blair watched the two men prance around in leather thongs, pretending it was them that held her rooted in place. When they'd gotten closer she'd struggled not to roll her eyes. How was thrusting your hips towards someone's neck supposed to be a turn on? But Serena had grabbed her hands pressing them against the dancers flexing buttocks, high chortles sounded in her ear as her fingers were forcibly drawn down hard thighs and so very lightly over the material she wasn't supposed to touch. And Blair pressed her legs tight together, ignoring the heat in her face and the hitch in her breathing. They were strippers it was their job. Because it could not be her best friend's hands over her own, or that breathy voice whispering dirty and physically impossible things in her ear, that soft cheek and messy hair pressed against the side of her face. It just couldn't.

When it was over Blair had escaped, and hadn't looked back to where a hulking blonde was trying to trap Serena on stage. She felt like she was on fire and surely anybody who saw her and Serena like_ that_ would think...But no, they never did. People would look at her and if they even noticed her starving eyes they'd chalk it up to the roided-out boys and wine. She and Serena had twenty years of hugs and caresses behind them—caresses that should have been innocent, but never quite were—and people had never looked twice. They wouldn't start now.

Blair threw herself into polite conversations and a little too much wine, while simultaneously watching as Serena fell to the bottom of what must have been every liquor bottle behind the bar.

So it was close to two in the morning when Charlotte started pushing some B-grade country club on her. Blair smiled politely, trying not to murmur how she'd rather spend her weekend in Brooklyn than surrounded by plastic surgeons and their third wives. When long graceful arms wrapped her waist and soft golden hair rubbed against her neck in a cat-like gesture it was almost a relief. "Come do a shot?" Serena pleaded in a not-quite slurred voice.

"I think you've already done my share, sweety." Her voice was unnecessarily prim, but she used Serena as an excuse to escape the fading socialite.

She pulled Serena away from the crowd with decisive steps and a tight hand. "You've had enough," she declared, as if Serena hadn't been gone for three years, as if their friendship was still this well-scripted parley.

Serena nodded, muttering, "I guess I might have." Serena's steps, even drunk in four-inch pumps, were long and smooth. The blonde looked uncertain for a moment, "I should go...You're supposed to have fun and if I stay you'd just worry about me."

Blair's eyebrow arched. Serena had never ruined anyone's fun. That was one of her main problems. Blair took a look around the club Serena had hired out. The cream of the UES, held together so tightly in the day, were all pretending that with four glasses of wine they suddenly couldn't control themselves from flashing their underwear and propositioning the strippers. "I'll come with you," she said with a brisk nod.

"No Blair! You have—"

Blair quickly led her out of the club and into the chilly night air. Throughout the ride home Blair ignored the blonde's nervous, liquor-addled conversation, which wasn't making all that much sense.

When they got to her and Chuck's apartment building Blair fought not to fiddle with her outfit. Through lowered eyelashes Serena's glazed sapphire eyes watched her with an unmistakable intent. The elevator ride felt familiarly uncomfortable.

As soon as they stepped into the penthouse Serena's arms had been wrapped around her shoulders. Blair bit back a moan as wet, open-mouthed kisses were placed over her throat. Blair's arms gripped Serena's shoulders, pressed tightly between their bodies. She wasn't sure if she was trying to push her away or never let her go. When their lips met with burning energy and heady force, Blair knew it was the later.

It was Blair who pulled Serena down the hallway, into her bedroom, pushing Serena into the bed she shared with Chuck. She wished she was stronger, she wished she was better, she wished _they _were less. But they were _BlairandSerena_ and the golden princess was pleading with her hands, and coaxing with fingers, and beguiling with her eyes. And no one would say no, least of all Blair.

Blair ripped at Serena's sequined shirt and pushed the blonde's short skirt roughly up her slim hips, trying hard not to hear the apologies and sweet words Serena whispered into her skin. And when they were both naked and touching each other like they'd never been apart, Blair couldn't pretend anymore. Blair's mouth was wrapped around a tight nipple, and Serena's fingers were buried deep inside her and she couldn't even think the word _friend_ anymore. She couldn't hide from what they were, not with Serena's body arching against her. Almost angrily, she moved her fingers roughly through clinging wet heat, knowing she hated the woman beneath her, just not nearly as much as she loved her.

Blair wouldn't say the words she knew. Wouldn't even think them. And it didn't change a damn thing. Together they were so perfectly whole, she couldn't believe they lived as separate entities. And when Serena screamed out her name and her wet flesh clung even tighter around Blair's fingers, she knew that _this_ was living. Separate they might survive, but _never_ would that be enough.

Even half-drunk Serena's movements were so deft and graceful it was almost vulgar. Those fingers could always be trusted with the finest china (just not hearts). Blair let that nimble tongue and agile fingers force her over into an oblivion of white, hot perfection. She wanted to think she'd forgotten how amazing this was, but it was so far from the truth not even Blair Waldorf could pretend that well. It was branded into her brain, on her skin, inside her chest.

Breathing hard and covered in a thin sheen of sweat they fell together, in tangled limbs and clenched hands, like they had since they were children. Blair was satisfied to be whole again and still absolutely livid. She couldn't regret a second she'd had with Serena, not one. Even if they had never touched, she would have known that there was no one else. But she knew that it had taken lips against skin and cries of pleasure-pain for the blonde to come to the same conclusion. So Blair might have to live with the knowledge that she'd never be complete without the girl beside her, but by God Serena would have to live with that as well.

Vindictive till the end.


	4. Chapter 4

Serena woke up feeling better than she had since arriving in Manhattan. The air was cold, but the sun was bright and warm on her face. If the world was fair, she'd have had a pounding headache, bags under her eyes, and a sallow complexion. But it wasn't and the only remnant of a hard night was a serious case of sex hair.

The other side of the bed was empty, which was to be expected. Blair was a routines girl, and no amount of Pinot Blanc and hedonism was going to mess with her schedule. Serena's fingers idly traced patterns over the bed. The sheets were cream with a faint pattern that suggested lace, while the bed cover was a harsh black. A perfect blending of personalities. _ChuckandBlair_. That was the story. That was the plan.

That was why she had left.

She didn't like Blair's idea of happily ever after. She didn't even understand it really. But Blair had wanted it. So Serena had always wanted it for her. It didn't matter if she'd liked (loved) Nate, that she'd liked (loved) Blair, or that she'd suspected that Chuck's soul was a little dark (nonexistent). Blair had made plans so Serena had fought for them. She didn't have any of her own to fight for, which made it all the more important.

A twinge of guilt hit Serena, Blair loved Chuck and if she was honest _she _loved Chuck. It didn't matter if he was her friend, nemesis, brother...Whatever he was she wanted him happy. Her guilt was drowned out by frustration. There were no happy endings in this story. There were no winners in this game. There were only pawns and victims. Serena didn't like to play these games, but that didn't mean she couldn't. She could and she was good at them. People would cower in dark, tiny spaces if they suspected their competition was Serena van der Woodsen. Serena didn't play she _won_. But the people she was playing with were her friends, and winning this game was never going to be a victory.

Without bothering to get dressed she threw a fluffy robe around her body, heading downstairs to find Blair.

Blair's delicate form was reclining gracefully on the chaise lounge flipping through a fashion magazine. She was wearing oversized sunglasses and sipping orange juice.

"Feeling okay?" Serena asked sweetly unable to help the small smile playing on her lips.

Blair let out a small groan, peering at Serena over her sunglasses. "I feel like I'm dying. My head is about to explode, even my pores feel gross! I have no idea how you do this," Blair moaned.

Serena smiled at her friend's dramatics, deciding it was best not to mention that she felt fine and if she had pores, they too were fine. "I could make you Chuck's secret hangover cure," she offered. Blair looked at her as if she had suggested they all move to Jersey.

Serena bit her lip, suddenly anxious. She moved to sit on the white chaise. With a small huff Blair folded her legs beneath her to make room for Serena. "I think we should talk, B," she began carefully.

"About what?" Blair asked still flipping through glossy pages nonchalantly.

"Last night," Serena said simply, the age-old words carrying the weight of a million _talks_ had by a million awkward couples.

"There's nothing to talk about, S." Blair's words were aloof, but Serena could hear the small thread of warning.

Serena let out a sigh before yanking Blair's magazine out of her hands and tossing it towards the glass table. Blair turned a narrowed gaze on Serena, ready to let out a string of chastisements. The words faltered on her tongue when she saw Serena's pouting lips and turbulent eyes.

Serena had known that this was how it would be. All denials and desperate attempts to ignore what had happened—what _they _were. Blair always acted as if her problems were invisible—an "if I can't see them..." mentality. She denied the imperfections in her life. Serena was hurt and mildly angry just knowing that Blair was treating her as if she was some unsightly mar on her perfect life.

"Don't act like this, Blair." She wrapped her arms around her own body.

Blair reacted to the look of vulnerability on Serena's face. It didn't matter how angry or how much she didn't want to do this, her first reaction would always be "protect and comfort" when it came to the blonde.

Serena relaxed a little when Blair sat up, shifting her legs till she could lean against Serena. Sitting side by side, their fingers entwined before either girl could think twice.

"I'm getting married, S."

"I don't want you to." Serena's voice cracked a little.

"I know, but I'm going to." The words weren't spiteful or mean. For Blair it was just the truth, stated as gentle as possible.

"But why?" Serena cried, unconcerned by the fact that she sounded like a five-year-old.

"Because Chuck stays." That was true too, but there was a little spite as well.

"I didn't want to leave," Serena mumbled, burying her face in Blair's shoulder.

Perverse creature that she was Blair had to ask "Why?" Oh she knew the answer. She knew the answer because she knew Serena. But the masochist in her wanted to hear Serena's words; hear how she ran for the best reasons; how she escaped full of good intentions; how she left Blair in hell, because she thought it would be best.

"I...I...Things were so good, but then you were going to change things. Tell Chuck about us. Break up with him. And—" Serena took a deep breath, trying to get control of a tear saturated voice. "I don't know, Blair! You wanted your fairytale and I knew I was never meant to be a part of that. I could never give that to you." Serena was hugging Blair, clinging to her desperately.

"You were always a part of the plan, S. You were the only part of the plan that never changed." Blair was annoyed at the blonde in front of her, but held her anyway. Crying only made navy eyes shine brighter. Only Serena could wear desperation and make it an attractive scent. "I told you, I _told you_ that I wanted _you _more than any stupid fairytale," Blair snapped, harsh enough that the words should sting. Because it was so obvious and _why couldn't she get this?_

"But I didn't want you to give up your dreams for me. I didn't want you to give up anything," Serena breathed quietly into Blair's chest. Because Blair wasn't the first person to offer up everything to be with Serena, because Blair wouldn't be the last, because sooner or later the glitter always faded, because she was _never_ enough.

"Then why are you here?" _Because right now you're about to destroy all those dreams with pretty tears and pouty lips_ went unsaid, but not unheard.

Serena sat up, fixing her intent gaze on Blair. "Don't marry him, Blair. Just don't. Stay with him, but don't marry him. Have _everything_."

Blair watched those shining navy eyes warily, knowing this was Serena at her most dangerous. Nearly naked, her face flushed, hair tousled, offering herself up anyway Blair wanted—she was something lethally beautiful. Blair shut her eyes, struggling to find her resolve. Beautiful and full of thorns, she reminded herself, and all that beauty had stolen the last drop of blood she was getting from Blair.

"It's too late, S. You left when you should have stayed. Chuck stayed and earned his place in my life," Blair's eyes burned into Serena, just daring her to argue.

Serena flinched, her face falling into a heartbreaking expression. She didn't respond, because there was nothing to say. Serena let out a small pain filled gasp before falling onto Blair, their lips meeting with painful force. She didn't hold Blair, didn't even touch her face. Serena captured Blair's bottom lip, biting it delicately before soothing it with the tip of her tongue. When Blair let out a ragged moan, she slipped her tongue between those silky lips, her tongue curving into that taste that she'd _always_ known.

Blair couldn't help it—didn't even try. She buried her hands in Serena's golden waves, ensuring that the blonde wouldn't escape. She sucked at Serena's lips, loving the feel of teeth and tongue and _Serena_. She emitted small sounds that would have been embarrassing if she could think straight.

And none of it mattered.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

Serena headed into Chuck's suite, cautiously, but almost wanting to be shocked. Sure they'd have gone out, but it was almost fate that the boys would end up back here. Room 1812 was synonymous with lechery and indulgence, for Chuck's bachelor party not to end up here would have been a crime.

Stepping over empty bottles and near naked female bodies, Serena was not disappointed. The room looked to be a cross between an orgy and Hiroshima. She immediately saw Chuck, still passed out on his bed with his pants missing. His face was disarmingly sweet when he wasn't awake to ruin it with his voice. Maybe other people would feel guilty or jealous, even angry...But Serena just felt the overwhelming urge to gather him into her arms. Instead, she took a mental picture so she could tease him later about his matching briefs and bowtie.

Nate was asleep on _his_ couch, his face buried into the arm of the chair, wearing only a pair of jeans. Serena's eyes lingered appreciatively over Nate's toned shoulders and smooth, tanned back, because...Well, that was Nate and who wouldn't look?

Her face softened when she saw Carter curled up on the floor beside the lounge. She sat by his head, relaxing into the mattress they'd shoved on the floor. She rested her head on the chair close to where Nate's sleeping head lay. Even asleep Serena could see the tiredness on Carter's face. His eyes always looked slightly swollen after a huge night out. She stroked his hair back with a cool hand, knowing he was going to feel sick just from the heat wafting off his body.

Somehow she found this all rather cute, despite the way a scantily clad stripper was passed out beside the mattress, one leg close to Carter's. The guys had partied themselves into exhaustion and it somehow reminded her of little boys eating candy till their stomachs ached.

She wanted badly to see Carter look up at her with those grey eyes, that should have been cold, but never were (they'd turn blue when were they went somewhere sunny by the ocean). She knew he wasn't perfect, knew even that Chuck probably had a point (not that she'd ever admit it). But he'd always been perfect for her. And she needed some of his anchoring right now. She'd kissed Blair until they were both dazed; until she'd been crying so hard she couldn't kiss and breathe at the same time. She'd collapsed beside Blair and let out pathetic little pleas, but her "_please_, please God don't do _this_..." had done nothing but make Blair look miserable as well.

"Hey." The sleep filled voice from behind her greeted.

She turned so she could smile at Nate's heavy lidded eyes and dishevelled hair. "Good night?"

He gazed off dreamily for a moment and Serena thought she'd lost his attention to one of his many daydreams. "The best," he said with a small smile that made her think of their twelve-year-old selves with more pot than kids that age should be able to afford. It made her giggle brightly and _loud _before she could stop herself. She slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes widening with _oops_.

"S, if you like breathing, you better get the hell out of my suite right now," Chuck mumbled in a rough voice from across the room.

"Sorry," she sung out in a stage whisper, "I'll be quiet."

"As-fuckin'-if," Chuck growled, before rolling over to face the other direction.

Nate let out a small snicker at her expression, bright blue eyes crinkling in the most familiar way. She punched a muscled arm lightly, and then glared when it ended up hurting her knuckles. Nathaniel coughed, trying not to let out anymore laughter.

Her eyes flitted downwards and she was surprised at the expression on Carter's face. His eyes were narrowed in Nate's direction, even though he couldn't possibly see the other man from where he was laying.

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently.

He just groaned, moving a little till he could lay his head in her lap. "I think I'm dying."

She smiled sympathetically, going back to smoothing his hair with her palm. Yes he'd completely brought it on himself, but she got the whole self-destructive thing and it didn't matter because hangovers _sucked_. He shivered a little and she leaned down till she could wrap her arms around him, in an awkward hug that managed to feel just right.

"Let's go somewhere warm," he said, speaking through a cloud of blonde hair.

"Um, wedding?" She reminded him. Carter always forgot about things when he got the urge to leave. Details didn't matter when you just need to _run_ (she got that as well).

"After," he compromised easily, "Let's go to Peru...Or Fiji!"

"Fiji sounds nice" She conceded. But Manhattan was nice too. And Manhattan had Blair and Chuck and Nate. And Fiji...Didn't.

For the first time in three years Serena considered enduring the winter.

**End Note: Sorry if this is bad. I wrote this chapter in a rush tonight because I wanted something out by the weekend (short attention span, if I don't finish stuff quickly I NEVER will). And tomorrow will be Friday night and the night after Friday tends to be a Saturday... And I won't be in any condition to write lol. **


	5. Chapter 5

Chuck's morning had been amusing. More than amusing, it had been a success. Serena had given Nathaniel one friendly smile and Carter had practically started frothing at the mouth. He'd flailed around on top of Serena, marking his territory or some shit, and then all but dragged her from the suite. While happy enough to follow the stupid bastard, Chuck knew his sister enough to be wary. Serena was not as stupid as her taste in men suggested. And he was _Chuck Bass_ and when suspicions arose sooner or later accusing eyes would turn his way. This had to be over, and _fast_. Chuck had manipulated Carter and an unknowing Nathaniel into opposite corners of the ring and the only thing left to do was wait for the match to begin.

Last night had been even better than expected. The naked women had been entertaining, the alcohol top-notch, and the opioids _amazing_. Nathaniel had played his part to perfection. After a few drinks and well placed lines from Chuck, his voice took on the half dreamy, half awe quality it usually had when he was thinking about Serena naked. Chuck slid in a few almost-hints that Serena and Nathaniel had been together after college and Baizen's face had predictably progressed from suspicion to outright jealousy.

Chuck lounged on the bed, watching Nathaniel hastily pull on his suit pants. Blair had given them all strict instructions to be at the ballroom on Broadway for their final rehearsal. He and Nathaniel already knew the exact breaths they were supposed to take on the day, so this was really Serena's turn to be ordered around.

For the first time ever he hoped Serena would bring Carter. He was certain the plan was in motion, but poking at it might speed things along. Nathaniel was swearing at his reflection trying to straighten a tie that was clearly uneven. With a small sigh Chuck rose from the bed, striding towards his friend. He brushed Nathaniel's hands aside without a word and in a few quick motions had redone the tie to perfection.

"_Dude_, any excuse to put your hands on me, huh?"

"Please, Nathaniel, we both know no one's ever needed an excuse to touch you." Chuck gave a small smirk. "Isn't breathing your only standard these days?"

Nathaniel gave him a crooked grin, flipping his collar down. "Who said anything about standards?"

He briefly considered telling Nathaniel that he was playing Carter against him. Chuck knew there was no love lost between the two men, but Nathaniel's IQ always seemed to go into free fall when Serena was concerned. For the moment he'd keep the plan to himself. With enough pokes Carter would give Serena an ultimatum or make a direct move against Nathaniel. It didn't really matter which. Serena would always pick _NathanielChuckBlair's_ (the winning) corner. Then Carter would fly off to some remote island with an exotic name and a dozen Starbucks.

And things would go back to the way they were supposed to be. They'd start building their lives again and he'd forget that Carter _fucking_ Baizen had almost made off with a quarter of their world. Forget, but never forgive.

They had arrived exactly four minutes late, which earned them a glare from Blair, but no death threats. With a quick glance around the enormous room he realised she must be saving them for Serena, who hadn't yet arrived.

Blair was wearing a knee-length white dress, which had an iris pattern embroidered in black silk. He enjoyed the view of his fiancée, who with brisk movements and a commanding voice organised the room till the heart of every last groomsman and bridesmaid was beating in sync. He idly wondered if she'd let him rip the dress from her body later. Of course some outfits were not to be trifled with, he more than understood this sentiment, but one could always hope.

He and Nathaniel lounged at a nearby table, glad that they'd escaped her dictatorship for the moment. With everything in place and nothing left to do Blair approached the table, falling gracefully into the chair beside him. Her inky dark eyes flicked to the doorway with every second breath.

"She'll be here," Chuck said, taking pity on his sister who was in serious risk of having a hit taken out on her.

"Of course she will," Blair replied with an almost serene smile. Chuck had to bite his tongue, not to let out an exclamation. Serene? _Serene_? Blair Waldorf was a million things, but calm in the face of tardiness was not one of them. 

Chuck glanced over at Nathaniel, wondering if he too had bitten off his tongue in surprise. Nathaniel was carefully studying the tablecloth.

"Did Serena have a bit too much fun last night?" He put emphasis on the right words, knowing Blair would understand he was asking if Serena had done some blow in the bathroom, or better yet, blown someone in the bathroom. She'd seemed okay this morning, waking him up at a time when she should have been shutting up, but maybe some amphetamines had caught up with her, or maybe Carter was chasing after some thirty-something stockbroker.

"No." Blair's lips thinned almost imperceptibly. Chuck narrowed his eyes at her flat tone. Blair was calm even though her Maid of Honour was late to the final rehearsal? Serena hadn't drunk herself into a coma at a bachelorette party? Either the four horsemen were running late or somebody was lying.

He studied Blair carefully, realising the extreme calm might be a sign that she was close to the edge. Perhaps she and Serena had fought. If it had been vicious, it would be enough to push Blair into this pseudo-calm realm of psychosis.

"Did you have _fun_ last night?" Nathaniel asked. Chuck shot his best man a questioning glance. Nathaniel's eyes were fixed on Blair with a fervour he couldn't decipher. Whatever was happening, it was becoming apparent he'd come late to this game.

Dark eyelashes fluttered in a deceptively languid movement. "Of course I did. It _was _my party after all." Blair's blithe voice was like sugar—sweet, icy, sugar—most likely laced with arsenic.

There was no hint of anger in her voice, but Chuck knew that tone intimately. It was a warning. A warning and a threat. Nathaniel knew something and Blair wanted him to keep quiet.

It wasn't a struggle to come to the conclusion that _he_ was the one his fiancée and best man were keeping quiet for.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

Serena had dressed in her creamy sequined top and demure pencil skirt, but had ended up sitting on the edge of her bed, having forgotten how to move.

Her old bedroom was gone. Her mother, Eric and the Huphrey's now lived in a larger, but less stylized penthouse. Somehow Rufus had added a few almost homely touches to the residence. Not that the place was by any means _warm_, but less showroom and more twisted Brady Bunch.

Her mind reminded her over and over that she had no option. She was the Maid of Honour. Her best friend and brother were waiting for her. She had to go. But her body refused to cooperate.

She felt heartsore just thinking about this wedding. It was like burning your hand on the stove, again and again. Surely after a while your hand would just secede from your body, and refuse to grip the hotplate, no matter how desperately you needed to.

So now she'd betrayed Chuck and failed Blair. It wasn't exactly a new experience.

Carter treaded into the room without knocking. His Armani suit jacket was open, revealing a messily tucked in shirt and no tie. He was probably hoping that his appearance would piss Blair off. He leaned casually against the pure white vanity.

"I think we're running late," Carter said, amused that they'd unintentionally found a way to annoy Bass.

"I know," Serena replied without inflection. She fell backwards onto the bed, her legs still dangling over the edge."I don't think I can go." She focused on the ceiling, looking for cracks that she knew didn't exist.

"I'm thrilled." Even without looking she could tell Carter was smirking. "Any particular reason?"

"I don't know. Not really. I just...I'm just not up for seeing some wedding thing." Her response didn't even make sense in her own head.

Carter stayed quiet for a moment. He moved towards the bed, close to her legs. Serena switched from watching the ceiling to watching him.

"Are you sure it's not someone in the wedding party you're not up to seeing?" His voice held that unpleasant quality. He was hiding his real emotions.

Serena's body flushed uncomfortably. She squirmed a little until her ears could hear past the ruching off her own blood. "What are you talking about?"

Carter's face hardened, his jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. "What's the real reason you left Manhattan?"

"I told you this. I don't even know what you're...Why are we talking about this?" Serena stood, no longer comfortable having him stand above her.

"No, you told me that you just needed to get away. I guessed that you were running away from something, but you were running away from _someone _weren't you?"

_He didn't know_. _Couldn't know_. _He hated Chuck. God he'd loved to hold this over him._ Serena flicked her hair over her shoulder before crossing her arms. "Look Carter, I don't know what you're talking about, but whatever my reasons were...It was before we were _anything_. So that's not really any of your business, is it?"

Carter watched her closely, as if he could read the truth in her eyes. "It is if you've been spending nearly every day with them...It is if you're still in love with them."

Serena could hear the mix of anger and confusion in his voice. "Carter—" _we never made any promises_. But she wouldn't say that. Couldn't with him looking at her like that. Sometimes you can break promises without ever making them.

She placed a hand on his cheek, it was cool and smooth and oh-so-familiar. He covered it with his much larger hand, trapping it so that he could lean his face in against it. His eyelids lowered till she could barely make out the grey though chocolate coloured eyelashes. "I know Serena. I _know_. That's not what we're about. We don't do the whole rules and boundaries...But just...I don't know. If I'm going to lose what I never had, just give me some sort of warning."

Serena closed the distance between them, leaning in against his chest. "I'm pretty good at getting lost," she mumbled, not knowing what she meant. Not even knowing how she could start making sense to herself. She wanted impossible things. She wanted everything. She wasn't ready to give up on anything. But right now, in this instant, Carter's warm arms and hard chest felt like enough.

"Look, let's just go to this thing, okay? There are probably men in black suits on their way to drag us to the rehearsal anyway."

She closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder. She felt him nod his head. "Mustn't disappoint the Bass," he agreed wryly.

She gave a sad smile knowing it was way too late for that.

**End Note: Just a couple chapters to go. I'm totally glad that people even read my self-indulgent BS, but reviews are like icing. Chocolate icing with **_**what are those sprinkle type things that are metallic colours?**__**Mmmmnnnn.**_


	6. Chapter 6

Blair's first impulse had been to leap across the table and force Nathaniel's idiotic mouth closed. Her second instinct cried social destruction. _Destroy him before he destroys you! _But no, this was Nathaniel. As much as she wanted him dead at the moment, later she'd love him again. So she seethed behind pretty smiles, and tempered the need rip that judgemental look right out of his eyes.

Chuck was searching her face with the quiet confidence that said _I'm Chuck Bass, and you can't hide_.

She was trying desperately to glare Nathaniel into nonexistence, but the boy was once again a disappointment. With a dismissive flick of her hair she turned away, reaching out a hand to Chuck. Her fiancé took it without hesitating. She ignored the question in his eyes, wondering how long she could continue on with this lie.

She heard the click clack of heels and knew who it was without looking. No one else took steps that long, that confident, as if the world should shrink because _she _had somewhere to be.

Serena threw herself into the room with a smile so shiny it was probably supposed to be an apology. She crossed the enormous, tiled ballroom in a matter of seconds. One hand enthusiastically waved at the table, y_eah, because there's a real chance we might not notice you_. Her other hand was locked around Carter's. Blair gave him an extra disparaging glance, because _what a disaster zone_, not to mention his hand was in Serena's and once it had been her hand and her getting pulled along at breakneck speeds and her world a blur through golden hair.

Serena blew a quick kiss to Eric, who was uncomfortably standing on the steps with the other groomsmen.

Blair thought about yelling, insulting Serena till the smile fell off her face; it was what people would expect. But she just didn't have the energy to put on the show. And it would be a show—an act, a farce—to prove that not even Serena could get away with being late to this.

All lies, because she could get away with everything.

Serena wrapped her arms around Blair's neck, whispering hurried excuses. Blair just pushed messy tufts of blonde hair behind her ear, because, really, _she _was the only disaster zone welcome here.

"Blair, I'm taller than Hazel, shouldn't I be on the higher step?"

Blair gave Iz the glare she deserved. God, why didn't these people realise they were lucky they even got an invitation let alone a step? "Iz, practice walking till you _don't _look like a reject from the village people." Her voice echoed under the high ceilings.

Serena gave Blair an affectionate shoulder squeeze—_patience. _Their eyes met and two decades of friendship subdued the need for words. Blair glanced towards Nathaniel—_be careful_. Serena looked confused, and Blair regretted never telling her that Nathaniel knew. But she'd never had the opportunity and that was not her fault.

Blair grabbed a camera off the table shoving it into Carter's chest. "Make yourself useful. I want to see the bridal party from every angle in the room."

Carter smiled and Blair swore he was going to mock her, but with a second glance at the petite brunette he decided against it. Shrugging, Carter ambled off, choosing to start with the angles that gave a view up the bridesmaid's skirts.

Serena grabbed onto Nathaniel's hands, tugging till he stood. "Quick! Show me where we go before Blair pulls out the whip." Nathaniel moved into the blonde with an oddly sombre look.

Blair watched as Nathaniel strode right by the bridal party, leading Serena to the back of the room. She wondered if she could find a subtle way to follow the two.

A cool hand brushed dark locks behind her back. Chuck fit himself along her back, leaning in till he could he could whisper into her ear. "Something you'd like to tell me, sweetheart?"

Blair couldn't stop herself from stiffening. "No." His finger grazed her throat tenderly, making Blair shiver. "Maybe," she conceded.

Nathaniel was speaking in a hushed, but clearly violent manner. He gestured in the direction of where her and Chuck were standing. Blair's throat constricted painfully when she noticed the way Serena's shoulders hunched in a little. She shrugged Chuck's hand from where it rested on her shoulder, preparing to intervene on Serena's behalf.

Before she could take a step in their direction the couple pulled away from each other. Serena turned watery eyes towards Blair before disappearing into the rear alcove. Blair gave Nathaniel her dirtiest look; it wasn't even a struggle to muster. She'd deal with _that_ later, for now she had to find Serena.

"Eric, you watch them." Blair gestured vaguely to the bridal party, sure he'd realise that she was talking about Carter.

The blonde was slumped behind a pillar, her knees pulled into her chest. With a sigh Blair smoothed down her dress, sliding down the pillar beside her. She tried not to think about how dusty it must be in the deep shadows behind these arches.

"What are we doing?" Serena asked dropping her head onto her knees.

"Well _I'm_ ruining perfectly good Chanel." She kept her legs together, straight out in front of her, trying not to wrinkle the dress too much.

Serena didn't even smile at the attempted joke. "Nate knows?"

Blair shot Serena a hard glance. "Don't worry about Nathaniel. I'll take care of that."

"Was this a mistake? Me coming back, I mean." Serena's voice was hesitant and Blair could see all the other mistakes she was questioning.

She dragged Serena's hand away from where she clutched at her knees. Pulling it onto her own lap, she encompassed it with both hands. "_Never_. This is where you belong. This is your home." She didn't just mean Manhattan.

"He said...He said I shouldn't have come back...He said not to be here for the...wedding. That I can come back after things settle down."

Blair felt a hot streak of anger burst through her veins. "Washington has given Nathaniel an undue sense of power." She took the blonde's face between her hands, her thumb brushed over sharp cheek bones beneath the baby-fine skin. "You are _Serena van der Woodsen_. You belong wherever the hell you want." Serena wrapped her hands around Blair's wrists, clinging to her just as she clung to the words. "What's you is me." _Their_ words slipped out of her mouth—a million times those words had been whispered, into gold tangles that smelt like vodka and second-hand smoke, or pristine chocolate curls bent over a porcelain bowl. It didn't matter; they always meant the exact same thing.

"Blair, I don't know if I can do it. Stand _there_. I want to be happy, but..." Serena trailed off.

Blair didn't know what to do. Every day she was losing sight of what this marriage was for. She wanted to tell Serena not to worry, to see even a small smile—anything except more tears. But she _needed _Chuck. She needed security and a balance. Needed a love that she knew would be there in the morning.

She knew her and Serena could never be _it_. Serena couldn't live in Blair's world of luncheons and _everymornings_ and Blair _wouldn't _live in Serena's constantly spinning world.

"Find a way," she said harshly. "For me?" She added to soften the blow.

Serena bit her lip, nodding without thinking. Blair moved Serena into her arms. She pulled away almost instantly, spotting the figure leaning against a pillar a few arches away. Serena turned around to see what she was looking at.

Blair gave him an even look, daring him to say anything.

Serena looked at her with worried eyes. "Blair! He—"

Blair hushed her with just a look. "I'll take care of it."

"Blair you're so busy already. You can't take care of everything."

"I can take care of _us_. All of us." Her head drooped onto Serena's shoulder, soaking up the sight of a world through golden strands. She wasn't avoiding anything. Blair Waldorf did not hide. But she did take a few minutes solace before heading into battle.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

Chuck reclined in his chair, trying not to look like he was preparing to pull his fiancée off of his best friend. He wanted to know what the hell was going on, but he was almost glad when Serena's entrance broke the tension.

The bubbly blonde dragged Carter in behind her. Chuck looked over the other man's bedraggled appearance. He was actually trying to make it look like Serena was late due to his sexual prowess—_pathetic. _Chuck could tell immediately that Serena hadn't just gotten laid (it was just one of his many, _many _gifts).

He observed the people around him carefully. The way Nathaniel looked everywhere but at him. He wasn't surprised when Nathaniel hauled Serena into a corner. Carter looked like he was about to start beating at his chest. He came very close to being shocked when he saw their interactions. _Was Nathaniel scolding Serena?_ His eyes immediately sought out Blair. Her eyes were fasted unwaveringly on their blond friends, small hands curled into fists.

He held his breath at Blair's almost-confession, but before he could say anything else she escaped his grasp, trailing after Serena.

He strode to Nathaniel, who was looking towards the archways with a horrified expression. He broke the other man's concentration by gripping his bicep.

"What is going on, Nathaniel?"

Nathaniel shook his head, making his hair fly around. "Man, I don't...Go look for yourself." Nathaniel nodded to indicate the darkened alcove behind the ballroom.

Chuck scowled wondering if he should just force it out of his friend. Eventually curiosity won out and he headed through the archways.

It wasn't anything he hadn't seen before. Serena and Blair sat together, hands entwined, heads leaning in together. He could just make out their faces in the dim light. It was so familiar he shouldn't have even thought twice about it. But he did. He noticed the way they clung together, as if there was no one else in the world. He noticed the way Blair cupped Serena's face, her expression so fiercely protective it stilled any words that came to mind. And when Serena and Blair moved together in a single synchronised movement he _saw_. For the first time he could see what had been right in front of him.

Blair spotted him and pulled out of the hug in a telling move. She met his gaze defiantly, but Serena's face was an open book that screamed guilt. How had he missed it?

Chuck turned without waiting to see how this twisted chick-flick moment ended.

By the time he reached Nathaniel, his breathing was no longer unsteady. He fixed Nathaniel with a stare that left no room for avoidance. "You tell me _everything_. _Now_."

He ignored the rowdy laughter behind him. The bridal party had fallen into disarray, chatting noisily and reclining on the stairs. Eric really wasn't the commanding type. At least he'd managed to keep Baizen placated.

Nathaniel glanced behind Chuck's shoulder, where Serena and Blair still hadn't emerged from the alcove. "I don't know everything, just stuff about before."

Chuck wondered if Nathaniel was deliberately trying his patience. "Before?"

"After college, I mean. Do you remember the night we were supposed to meet the girls at my place? But we got drunk in your suite?"

"When we sobered up a little I sent you to find them..." Chuck gestured, indicating that Nathaniel should get on with it.

"They had never left my apartment and I went into the bedroom and saw..._Them_...You know?" Nathaniel flushed his eyes glazing over slightly.

Chuck tolerated his friend's amazed expression, because Nathaniel thinking about his ex-girlfriend and not-so-secret crush in bed together deserved a little awe. For a moment Chuck wondered if he should make a pervy comment, wondered if that's what you did when your fiancée falls into bed with her best friend.

Nathaniel seemed to come out of his wet (day)dream."I didn't know what to do so I just kind of left. The next day I asked Blair about it. I thought maybe it was just Serena, doing ...Serena stuff." Nathaniel dipped his head, sandy blond hair blocking off his expression. Chuck knew that Nathaniel was thinking about lying.

"Just spit it out." He was already exhausted by this conversation, he just wanted it over. He didn't want to talk; he wanted to _do_ something, anything, to make things alright again.

Nathaniel grimaced, but met his eyes squarely. "It wasn't. Blair said they were going to be real. That she was going to tell you...End it." The last words were so quiet Chuck could barely make them out.

"What happened?" His voice was normal, completely unaffected. This was almost unreal.

Nathaniel shrugged. "Serena left. And you know what Blair was like after that—I couldn't have said anything, but she made sure anyway. She reminded me that she wasn't the only one to make a mistake with S, that I owed her one. She even—"

Chuck cut Nathaniel off with a wave of his hand. He didn't need it explained what lengths Blair would go to, just to keep her secrets. "And what about _now_?"

"I figured that with Serena back things were going on again. I told S that maybe she shouldn't be here if she was going to screw up the wedding." Nathaniel had the good grace to blush. "Do you think I did the right thing?"

Chuck didn't hesitate, not even for a second. "No." For some reason he was angry with Nathaniel. This should have been dealt with years ago. Blair keeping quiet was to be expected. Serena fleeing was the norm. But Nathaniel had never asked Serena to come back, had kept Blair's secret, had left him in the dark. It wasn't fair to blame Nathaniel, but his anger needed an outlet.

He watched as Blair emerged from the back of the room, their eyes met and she headed straight for him. Without looking away from Blair he spoke to Nathaniel. "Go. Fix what you did with Serena."

Chuck moved towards the bridal party, offering his arm when Blair reached his side. _Be nice now, because there's always time to be nasty later_. Without a word she took his arm, focusing on giving instructions.

He manoeuvred them till they were next to the right person. "Nathaniel's gone to _comfort_ S," he whispered loudly towards Blair.

She sent him a questioning look, but he was too busy smirking at Baizen disappearing into the alcove.

"Carter!" The girlish squeal echoed through the room. The ballroom quietened so the sounds of a scuffle could be heard. Chuck couldn't repress a small snicker when he saw two dark suited forms rolling around in the distant corner.

It really did make him feel better.

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! This story was meant to be a one-shot about Serena feeling left behind when her friends got married...I have no idea what happened lol. And yes that was meant to be a (subtle) threesome in the first chap. **

**One day I will right about a couple that's actually possible. Now I like B/C, N/S, S/Ca—pretty much everything. But S and B? They just have like serious **_**vibes**_**. **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Tiny bit angsty. I totally missed my calling writing for b-grade soapies. **

Serena pressed the cold pack into Carter's eye as gently as possible. He groaned, shooting her a hard look. Okay, she probably could have been more careful, but she wasn't exactly in the mood.

Lilly and Rufus were on a short trip to Malibu, and a college project had suddenly popped up leaving Eric no choice but to escape to a friend's house. They had the penthouse to themselves, so Serena could berate him as loudly as she wanted.

The wedding rehearsal came to an abrupt end when Carter had punched Nate and the two boys had rolled around on the floor like brutes. Nathaniel had a slight height advantage and years of athletics' training; Carter had a decade of bar fights and playing dirty. It had been a pretty even match.

Despite her squeals of outrage it had taken Chuck and Blair a while to get to the fight and it took even longer for them to attempt to stop it. Blair had just taken her arm and moved her away from the fray, barely concealing a look of satisfaction. Despite the fact that he was watching his best man get laid into, Chuck looked surprisingly gleeful. The bloodlust in that couple way exceeded that of the two boys trying to maim each other.

Eventually Blair had given into Serena's pleas and loudly called for them to grow up. Taking his cue Chuck had hauled Nate up and motioned for the other groomsmen to step in.

Serena and Carter had ridden home in silence.

Serena stood in front of the bed, with Carter sitting in front of her. He snatched the ice pack from her grasp, no longer willing to suffer her brash ministrations. He pressed it over his eye before removing it for a minute—it was obviously a well practiced routine.

Serena fell onto the bed beside him, hoping she jostled something tender. "I swear, Carter, you better have a good explanation." She crossed her arms, not bothering to feign patience.

"Just seeing the two of you together—" Carter shook his head in distaste. "I can't stand it Serena," he hissed.

Serena was more puzzled than angry at his response. She chewed her bottom lip, wondering what to say. "So you're still jealous of Nate?"

It wasn't the smartest of responses, but she didn't think it deserved the incredulous look Carter gave her.

"You want me to say it? Admit my weaknesses?" Carter laughed humourlessly. "Yes, Serena. I'm jealous of the guy you pretty much admitted to being in love with." He gave her a flinty smile that matched his tone. "You have _defeated_ me."

Serena was too surprised to reply. Carter threw the icepack at the vanity table, standing hastily.

She would have been intrigued by the first half of what he said, but she was too shocked by the second half. Her relationship with Carter wasn't like any she'd had before. Blair would be popping Valium like tic tacs if she knew everything they got up to.

She hadn't meant to feel anything for him. He'd been a pretty distraction in some cold country when she was feeling lonely and _cold_. He'd been a familiar face in a sea of strangers. He'd become the only constant in a life where her address changed as often as the seasons.

They didn't follow the normal relationship rules, but that didn't mean they didn't have their own. Possessiveness was definitely a no-no. So was admitting that they needed each other.

Carter was totally walking all over their unspoken agreement...And he was about to walk away.

Serena sprang up from the bed, darting in front of Carter to block the doorway."Don't you dare walk out on me after that!"

He smiled as if she'd said something funny. "Darlin', that's all we ever do." He moved as if to pass her.

Serena blocked him again, leaning against the door so there was no way past without physically removing her from her spot. Stopping the other from running was definitely against the rules. But if he could break their rules, so could she. She was better at it too.

He gave her a tired glare, though it might just have been due to his black eye, which was rapidly swelling closed. "Serena, don't do this. I'm not going to wait around and watch as the royal foursome fall back into their perfect little pairs, while the whole of the UES gushes over the golden couple."

He grasped the doorknob straining till it opened a few inches. Serena pressed back against it with all of her weight until it slammed shut. "You can't leave. Not this time." Serena took a deep breath, knowing she had to make this good. "Yes I love Nate. I always have. But I'm not _in _love with him,,, Whatever that means. You can't be jealous of that Carter, because I _need_ you. I need Nate in my life too, but I always need you." And oh God was it hard to say those words. To give him all that power.

She knew he could hurt her, but it was tough to let him know that.

Carter told her when it was enough, when it was too much, reminded her that she didn't have to escape all the time. He forgave her for every mistake without her ever having to ask. And in return she pointed out that even he, Carter Baizen, could make mistakes (and that it was okay). She made escaping something brilliant, reminded him that too much was barely enough, that _enough_ was for those who couldn't handle excess.

They'd flown their golden cages but found they still needed their pretty baubles.

Because of her, his life wasn't a parade of bimbos and barely remembered nights, well maybe it was, but the mornings without that were better than the nights with it (and the nights were _amazing_). And if worse came to worse at least she wouldn't be a _lonely_ thirty-something, coked-up, fading socialite.

"But this morning you said—" Carter gave her a dubious look.

Serena quickly ran through their earlier conversation. "Oh," she breathed, slumping against the door. "You were talking about _Nate_!"

"Wait... Who did you think I was talking about?"

Serena knew Carter. She also knew that she couldn't lose him. "Blair. I left New York because I fell in love with Blair." Those words felt strange on her tongue. It was the first time she'd ever said those words aloud. She gauged his reaction before continuing. "I still am."

And Serena had played her cards right. Carter wasn't exactly the cautious type. The fact that he saw Nathaniel as competition was a miracle, seeing Blair in the same light was simply beyond his capabilities.

His ego truly was impressive.

Carter's eyes lightened instantly, already imagining the possibilities. "You think she'd—"

Serena cut him off with a dry response. "No, she really wouldn't."

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

Chuck and Blair entered their apartment in silence. Ignoring Blair, he headed straight for the small bar in his billiard room. He poured himself a glass of scotch, downing it before mixing a vodka gimlet.

He held up the gimlet wordlessly when Blair cautiously entered the room. She took it, but not before giving the room her disgusted appraisal. The billiard room was Chuck's. The decor was dark and masculine. Blair usually did her best to repress the fact that a room this..._base_ even existed in her home.

Watching Carter's eye turn an ugly shade of blue and Penelope stuff Nathaniel's nose to slow the bleeding had taken the edge off his mood. It had left a dull throbbing in its place.

He poured another glass of scotch, mildly pleased at Blair's look of distaste.

Blair took a seat and a small sip of her drink. Her delicate heart-shaped face scrunched up at the strength of her drink. Chuck Bass did not do girly drinks.

"So, you've been fucking my sister?" It wasn't really a question.

Blair glared at his vulgarity, but gave a small nod of acknowledgement. Chuck took another swig of scotch, pretending his heart hadn't just clenched in anguish. The warmth of the drink comforted him in a way _she_ no longer did. He refilled his glass.

"I suppose congratulations are in order, _my dear_." He saluted her with his drink, but swallowed it before she could respond. Well this was Serena van der Woodsen, and if her taste was less than discerning he was sure it would be a pleasure anyway. "I bet you missed the princess' golden days, messing around when she was all fucked up on ex?"

Blair didn't respond which was more of a confession than any words could be. Chuck reached for the bottle again, but Blair snatched his glass away. "That's enough."

Chuck gave her a disbelieving smirk. _Did she really think she got a say anymore?_ Of course she did. This was Blair Waldorf—she took "ballsy" to an all new level.

He leaned over the bar, capturing her chin in one hand. "What do you propose we do instead?" He used his most lewdly suggestive tone, tugging her face closer to his.

Blair smacked his hand away, jutting out her chin so she could look down on him through imperious lashes. "We get married."

He outright laughed this time. "But, my dear," that was his new code for _harpy_, "I sincerely doubt you have the ability to memorise marriage vowels, let alone adhere to them!" He pronounced, as if he genuinely wanted to alert her to this fact.

Dark eyes watched him knowingly. "I never forget a thing, you know that."

One soft finger drew a line across his cheek. He wasn't quite certain he wanted to play this game. He didn't like being the underdog. "And Serena?"

Her hand stilled against his cheek. One eyebrow arched mockingly (she could only be _this_ open with one body part at a time). "I'm in love with her. You've always known that."

_He had_.

"But you want to marry me." He raised an eyebrow till it matched hers. "_Why_?" He let some of his pain seep into the word.

"Because we love each other," she stated simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Because we're _us_."

Because apart they would have just ended up empty shells in their UES cages; together they turned their cages into thrones and managed to cling to small pieces of their souls.

"And I'm supposed to just ignore the fact that you played grab-ass with my sister on the other side of the bed?"

She gave a miniscule shrug that meant everything and nothing. "You can ignore whatever you want."

"How generous of you," he remarked dryly.

A prim smile brightened her face. "I know, right?"

She slid her hand across the bar. Chuck regarded it warily, but eventually he placed a hand over it, biting his cheek so he wouldn't laugh at his own foolishness. Their eyes met and he realised she looked at him _almost _as tenderly as she had looked at Serena.

Gently she brought his hand to her lips, in something not quite a kiss. She was the only one gentle with him. She was the only one that realised he was breakable.

Chuck took back his hand before he said something romantic and embarrassing, but the warmth of her lips lingered (more comforting than any drink).

He snatched back his glass, grabbing the bottle of scotch before Blair could do anything other than frown. "So you and S, huh?" His trademark leer appeared. "You think she'd—"

Blair's lips thinned dangerously. "Probably, but _I _wouldn't."

**End Note: I've never really gotten into the whole C/B thing (don't hate me!), so I hope they weren't too OOC, or too bland. One chapter and an epilogue to come. **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Why do I always pick on the investment bankers? Some of my best friends are heading that way. Must be the arts student in me. **

"_I won't stay here, Serena."_

"_Not even for a while? Not even for me?"_

"_I hate this place. You know that." _

"_No, you don't. You hate all that it represents. You're not that. You could never be that." _

"_How many investment bankers at the Hamptons told themselves that?"_

"_It's your home too."_

"_Not anymore, it's not." _

"_Well, it's mine. And I'm staying. I want you here, but if you can't—" _

"_I can't."_

"_Fine."_

"_Like hell." _

Blair was not expecting Serena. The blonde hadn't even RSVP'd for Blair's wedding night. She'd wanted all of the girls over so that she could keep an eye on them, make sure everyone went to bed early and no one (_Penelope)_ ate trans fats and got oily skin.

Serena barrelled into the room, barely sparing a glance for the masseurs and manicurists Blair had hired. She was wearing a brightly printed camisole and black jeans that clung tightly to every inch of Serena's lengthy legs. The blonde swept her up in a hug, squeezing, and squealing till Blair pulled away, almost out of breath from Serena's enthusiasm.

"Oh, B! You're going to be so gorgeous! No one will ever dare to wear white again!"

"They better not," she agreed in an amused tone.

"Let's go to Preston's! A last congratulatory croissant before you're married and too busy feeding cucumber slices to your bridge club." Serena went on her tiptoes, hands moving restlessly.

Blair looked around worriedly at her sleepover preparations. "S, there's so much that—"

Serena's bottom lip poked out, her eyes widening with disappointment. Blair knew how to pick her battles, and Serena's pout was a sure sign that this one was never going to go her way.

"Fine, but _quickly_. And no Tiffany's on the way!"

Serena nodded eagerly.

Tiffany's was as soothing as usual. Her stress over the wedding seemed to melt away with every debate over the colour-grade of a diamond and every time Serena cooed over something so shiny it verged on crassness. Blair finally gave into puppy dog eyes and let her buy a set of platinum, diamond bangles to wear with her bridesmaid's dress.

Their arms linked, they walked in their usual brisk fashion to their favourite patisserie, Serena gushing the entire time about how wonderful the wedding was going to be and Blair complaining about the unsatisfactory performance of those in the wedding business. "They suggested gerberas! Gerberas in _winter_!"

"The incompetence!" Serena laughed.

Blair watched Serena strip her croissant into a dozen parts, eating each peeling separately. She couldn't shake the feeling that Serena was in deep repression mode, where breathe-giggle-enchant became the only thing running through the blonde's head. "Okay, I know I asked you to get into the whole wedding thing, but you didn't have to become president of the Waldorf-Bass fan club."

Serena dangled a strip of pastry, slowly lowering it into her mouth. "I'm not. I just...Thought about stuff. You deserve to be happy Blair and if Chuck that does it for you—"

She swallowed her bite of chocolate croissant. "He does."

Serena nodded. "And you deserve a best friend that's happy for you. I mean it's going to take a lot of martinis, so I'm not going to be there for the sleepover, but I'll be there when it counts. And I'll be _ecstatic _for you. For you both. I know if the situation was reversed you'd do that for me. Not reversed as in me marrying Chuck, 'cause—no offence—but there's only so much tequila can do for my sex drive. I mean like me the one getting—"

"I think I get it, S." Blair couldn't help her slightly disbelieving smile. After all this time Serena could still be pretty slow about certain things. If Serena was getting married, Blair would be throwing the grandest mother-Chucking tantrum the UES had ever seen. Not thinking too hard about her actions, she reached across the table, grasping Serena's slightly greasy hand. "I need you to make me happy as well."

Serena licked her lips before smiling sweetly. "Good, because I'm going to stay. I want you, Chuck, and Nate back in my life." She took a deep breath, her face falling into unhappy lines. "But Carter won't stay."

"Then he's an idiot." Blair ignored the blinding satisfaction that made her want to leap onto the table.

Serena gave her a small smile. "Maybe," she agreed quietly. "I know things can't be the way I want. I know they can't even be the way they were. But we're something, aren't we?"

_No! _She was getting married. That would make her and Serena _nothing_. That's what marriage meant. Didn't it? "I can't hurt Chuck."

"We could be a something that didn't hurt Chuck," Serena said hopefully.

This so wasn't a battle she could win either. "No promises," she warned.

Serena gave her most brilliant grin. "No promises."

Yes, she was getting married tomorrow. But Serena popped the tip of Blair's finger in her mouth, sucking the last of the chocolate crumbs away, and somehow bouquets were the last thing on her mind.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

Chuck had been kicked out of the penthouse and warned not to come back. Something about tradition, or one of those other eccentric fables Hepburn had taught Blair.

In retaliation Chuck's groomsmen were staying with him in 1812 for what was surely going to be remembered as the night of never ending porn and the never, ever ending stash of hash. Not that he was trying to take the edge off or anything. It wasn't like Chuck Bass was nervous.

After leaving work early he'd ended up outside The Palace. He knew why he was here. _Who_ he was here for. How he knew, he couldn't say.

He walked into the bar that had barely changed since he was fourteen and ordering scotch (on the rocks, but he'd been young so it was forgivable).

Four p.m. wasn't exactly rush hour, so he spotted her instantly. He strolled up to her seat, leaning against the bar, closer than would be appropriate for a stranger.

Suspicious navy eyes met his, obviously ready to shoot down some aged lawyer. He smirked, nodding at her martini. "A little early, _sis_?" The endearment sounded even more obscene than usual.

She gave him an amused glance over her glass. "Not even close."

Chuck gestured to the bartender. He didn't recognise the man, but felt certain that the guy would know his order anyway. Serena was dressed in a short, sleeveless, beige wrap dress, which should repel attention but only seemed to highlight how un-beige she was. Her hair was messy, but he didn't think it knew any other style. It was impossible to tell how many she'd had (Serena held her own pretty well), but if he had to guess he'd say a lot.

As if to confirm this, she gave him a brilliant grin and she'd only be smiling at him if she was wasted. It was a Serena van der Woodsen icon—all jaded temptress and vulnerable innocent. A heady mix for those too stupid to recognise the danger. "I don't think you're supposed to be here," she sang happily, poking his chest to emphasize the point.

"I'm not supposed to be at my own bar?" He ignored the bartender that set his drink down.

"You're not supposed to be _drinking_ at anyone's bar," she clarified. "'Cause of the...You know."

"Wedding?" He mocked gently.

"Yeah." Serena looked past him, eyes glazed and distant. She snapped out of it almost instantly, raising her glass. "To keeping perverts off the street, one marriage at a time."

"Blair will be pleased to know you think so highly of her." He tapped her glass with his own.

She placed one arm on the bar, resting her head in her palm so she could watch him. Blonde waves hung below her waist, dragging along the bar in a way that would make Blair screech. "Are you going to have the staff spit in my drink or something?"

Chuck knew she was asking if he was adding a new name to his hit list. "And pass up the pleasure of doing it myself?" He yanked the end of a golden curl, like he hadn't since they were twelve (okay, sixteen). She pushed his hand away, but giggled exactly the same as she had all those years ago. "Where's that savage that's usually staring at your ass?"

Her bottom lip seemed to quiver. "I don't know."

"Took him long enough to realise he was out of his league."

Serena rolled her eyes, but Chuck could see the amusement on her face. "He wants to leave for Vanuatu. I should too, I guess. " She paused for his reaction. "But I don't."

If this news had come before yesterday he would have exclaimed in triumph. Now he just gave a small pleased smile. "So him finding out about you doing my fiancée...That was just a coincidence?"

Serena winced, but the change in topic couldn't have come as a surprise. "He's cool with that."

"He's a fool," Chuck spat, more vehemently than he intended. Of course Baizen was too fucking stupid to realise which way the danger was coming from.

_You were just as fucking blind_, his mind reminded him unnecessarily. How could he have thought that piece of dirt was the antagonist to their perfect world?

They were _SerenaChuckBlairNathaniel_, nobody could fuck that up.

Except for themselves.

The whole thing made this brilliant sort of logic. There was only one thing that could hurt them, and that was each other. Their greatest weaknesses.

He could make her leave. He knew that. It would be so easy. A few barbs slung in the right spots and she and Baizen would be on the first flight to some hotter-than-hell place he couldn't care less about.

But he wouldn't.

She'd just got back, and Blair was still recovering from the _first_ time she'd disappeared.

He was too. It had been a shock to his system when he first realized how very vulnerable his world was—how his happiness relied on three incredibly volatile people.

And the most volatile of them all was watching him with guarded eyes, ready to be hurt.

"I'm not so _cool_ with it." He tried to repress a sneer.

She tossed her hair back along with the rest of her martini. "I didn't think so," she murmured softly.

"Nathaniel's a lightweight and Blair is a lousy drinking partner." _I'm glad you're staying_.

Serena gave her signature grin. "I know!" _I'm back here for you too_.

He nodded at the bartender to refill both their drinks. He was suddenly glad for the quiet din of the bar; it was a familiar setting he always felt comfortable in. Almost impulsively he reached out, brushing a lock of hair, his touch lingering on her bare shoulder. "You could always make it up to me."

Serena rested a hand against his neck. He wondered if she planned on choking him. Before he could think, her lips met his in a soft exploratory caress. She smelt like berries and tasted like gin. Without warning she pulled away, sipping her drink as if nothing had happened. Maybe it hadn't.

Serena looked at him from lowered lashes, a small smile playing over her lips. "I thought about it, you know." She laughed brightly at his shocked expression.

"The family that plays together..." He finally managed to get out.

Serena nodded happily. "But then I realised, it didn't work out so well the last time, it probably wouldn't work out the second time around."

Chuck frowned quizzically, before it dawned on him. "Nathaniel? And all this time I thought it was those unholy good looks and unthreatening level of intellect."

She shrugged. "I never have good reasons. Because I loved him was definitely one reason, because I could was pretty high on the list too. But driving a wedge between him and Blair? Having her back for myself? I think that was somewhere in the back of my mind."

"You're telling me your M.O.?" He shook his head, feigning disgust. "_Amateur_."

"But then she'd be all upset..." Serena trailed off before dispelling the last of her seriousness with a small shake of her head. "And there's not enough antibacterial soap in all the world," she finished, scrunching her nose at him.

_Was she really admitting that she planned on seducing his wife? _"You really think you could just come in, blink your baby blues and I'd fall at your feet?"

Serena raised a knowing eyebrow. A slow grin stretched across Chuck's lips. Well, he was in a recklessly destructive mood and nobody did reckless destruction like Serena. "The wedding is tomorrow, S. Blair chose _me_. No matter how pleasant your tactics, it's a little late for guerrilla warfare."

She played the rim of her glass gently over her bottom lip. "Is it?"

"Blair thinks divorces are for uncouth Californians," he replied confidently.

"Who said anything about divorce? I can play nicer than that." Serena indicated her empty glass so Chuck could make sure a new one was brought.

"Oh, van der Woodsen!" Chuck cried, delighted despite himself. "Europe has made you _epic_."

She raised a new martini in an almost comically formal toast—blonde, sapphire, gold, even shinier than usual. "Game_ on_, Bass." She held the pose for only a second, before a tinkling laugh escaped her lips.

_Ah well_, he could drink to that.

**E/N: R & R people! I even take criticism well! (It totally said so on a primary school report card...)**


	9. Epilogue

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and smooches for all those that fav'd and reviewed! My love of melodrama and camp needs this outlet ^^ **

**Amy: Some close family friends are from Vanuatu and they use to tell me stories of growing up care-free, spending every day on the beach and I totally thought S/Ca could appreciate that lol.**

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

God himself must be terrified of Blair Waldorf. The skies, which for the last week had been a dreary grey that refused to give up its precious snow, opened into a clear endless blue for the Bass-Waldorf wedding.

Serena's morning had been a whir of prattling bridesmaids and hiding event organisers from Blair's wrath—all through the thick haze of hairspray. Serena would think her dress was the most gorgeous thing she'd ever seen, if she hadn't seen the bride's dress. The strapless sweetheart neckline and defined waist ended with midnight tulle that fell in silhouette to the ground. The other bridesmaids wore a similar dress, only tea length and in various, less flattering, colours.

Blair was dressed in a mist of airy antique gold bobbinet, with a delicate rosette bodice and black halter tie. Serena was certain that no one would even spare a glance for the maid of honour dress that Blair had put so much thought into.

She would have expected her friend to look pale or stressed, but instead Blair's porcelain skin seemed radiate confidence and ease. Blair had been planning this day for close to two decades and it showed. Blair's dark hair had been pulled into a chignon with twists, and Serena found she could barely look away from her petite friend.

"Is Chuck here?" Blair asked one of the event coordinators running around, her tone quiet but steely.

"Blair," she cut in, "he was here the last dozen times you asked, he's going to be here now."

"I know, it's just hard to believe this is happening," Blair trailed off quietly.

Serena grasped her face, careful not to smudge any make-up. "You are getting married to the man of your dreams, in a dress Vera Wang would kill for, looking like a much more beautiful Audrey Hepburn."

"Nobody is prettier than Audrey," Blair corrected.

Serena just gave her a look—the look she'd been giving since they were twelve and Blair started pushing her food around instead of eating it. It was a hundred chastisements of how very wrong Blair was and a hundred more compliments of how very perfect she was.

Blair gave an absentminded smile, her eyes travelling over Serena. "You look beautiful too. Too beautiful, in fact," Blair said narrowing her eyes.

Serena grinned, kneeling to fluff Blair's dress for the last time. "Then you should have put me in the same tangerine as Hazel."

Blair sniffed derisively. "Yeah, that's all I need: hundreds of guests awing over how you could pull off _anything_."

Harold burst in with his usual energetic movements and aura of calming energy. Serena moved away so Blair's father could touch his daughter with his usual reverence and much-needed compliments.

Before she could say anything else she was ushered away by a short bossy woman with some sort of microphone around her ear. Serena remembered blowing Blair a last kiss before walking down the aisle, but she couldn't remember many details about the ceremony. It was white, and beautiful, and _long_. She, embarrassingly, started tearing up the moment she saw the expression on Chuck's face after catching sight of Blair.

She did remember Nate's bruised face across from her, stifling laughter at her watery predicament.

Serena had thought being happy at Chuck and Blair's wedding would be impossible. Just another lie for the sake of her friends.

But for once, doing the right thing was easy. Maybe because she didn't know what the look on Chuck and Blair's face was. A kind of terse joy, as if they were unhappy at how very happy this whole thing made them. She didn't understand the look on her friend's faces, but she was certain that it was all perfection.

While the other bridesmaids froze in their short dresses and their hair was pulled into uncomfortable buns, Serena stayed relatively warm and her loose blonde waves were pulled into a simple low ponytail. She was touched, not only had Blair planned for _her_ perfect day, she'd clearly planned for her best friend—with her hatred of up-dos and pastels—to be standing beside her.

When the vowels were over and the newlyweds shared their dignified kiss, she and Nate watched the signing of the marriage papers.

"S, can't you do something about the water works? Even Blair didn't prepare for a flash flood," Chuck hissed.

"Uh uh, you can't use that tone now that the whole of Manhattan has seen your wedding face. The truth is out: you're _adorable_!" She cooed, pinching his flushed cheeks. Chuck shook the blonde off with a glower that only made her giggle.

The next man that tried to pat Chuck on the back got a death stare he'd never forget. He turned to Blair. "Let's just blow this socialite fest off—" he whispered something else into her ear that made blush and ignore him.

Nate took Serena's arm, offering her the silk handkerchief from his tux. "It wouldn't have been the same without you, ya' know?" He whispered, close to her ear.

She squeezed his arm with the hand that wasn't wiping her face. Nate had never been too good with words, but he'd never had to be. Serena knew he was sorry, even if he had been right.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

The reception was just a sea of vague faces to Serena. She could remember their names, salaries, and ancestry (hazard of the post code), but that was about it. She was only interested in finding one guest.

Carter was sipping a glass of champagne, animatedly talking to pretty waitress. Serena reached out smoothing the vest of his charcoal suit. The waitress took the hint and disappeared.

"I think the whole eighties, sunglasses-indoors-thingy might catch on," she greeted.

"Waldorf sent a messenger over this morning with them. Let it never be said that I can't take a hint."

"Wow, Blair really doesn't forget anything. I thought it was just an urban legend." Serena breathed, repressing a smile. She lifted his sunglasses, gently touching the puffy green-black skin that surrounded his eye. Both eyes were bloodshot: self-medicating was his forte. "Ouchy."

"Yeah," he agreed, watching her thoughtfully. His hand slipped into his pocket pulling out a small sheet of paper that he gently pressed into her hand.

She glanced over the plane ticket to Port Vila. "You're leaving today?" She couldn't help how high pitched the words came out.

"The weather's unpredictable in the wet season."

They both knew the weather wasn't _that _unpredictable.

"Why do you have to go?" It was a child's question. _Why leave? Why can't you stay? Why am I never enough?_

"Because I'm not you."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"I'd stay here and be on some board of directors before I could blink. I said before that the UES sucks everyone in, turns them all, but I was wrong. You can stay and be you."

Serena wasn't really sure he was making any more sense. She was just grateful she'd already used up her supply of tears.

"Come with me." He grasped her hand, pulling her close into his body. "It's going to be crazy humid and you know how I hate breaking a sweat alone," he tempted.

She could almost picture it. The rainforest would be so green, the sand so white, and the Pacific Ocean really was her favourite. Maybe Carter would even wear a floral shirt. She wanted desperately to see that. Their beach condo would be a mess, they'd drink too much, seduce strangers. It would be lewd chaos.

It would be _her _chaos. Herperfection.

"I can't," she whispered.

It was the truth.

He smiled, but not like he was happy. "Yeah, didn't think so." He shot a wry glance over her shoulder. "No matter what else is wrong with the UES royalty, I know they take care of their own, kid."

Her throat seemed to freeze. He hadn't called her _kid_ since that time in Santorini that they didn't talk about.

"Keep the ticket, you never know when boredom might strike." He kissed her, quick and messy, before disappearing into the crowd.

Carter didn't do goodbyes.

Chuck and Blair appeared beside her, and she wondered how much of the conversation they'd heard.

"Dear God S, did you just get dumped at _another _wedding?" Chuck asked, voice somewhere between disbelieving and gloating.

Her throat unfroze and for some reason she laughed.

"If I were you, I'd never go to another—" Chuck began, but hesitated when he saw the look on his wife's face.

"I did not get _dumped_," she argued.

Chuck raised a sceptical brow. Blair slipped an arm around Serena's waist, clearly showing that neither of them believed her. "We'll find you Nate and something stronger than the Moët," Blair crooned, as if comforting a child.

Serena sighed. "I don't need a drink. And you two need to be mingling." She glanced around orientating herself. "Hey _wait_, don't you two have a plane to catch soon?"

"It's a private jet. It's not going anywhere," Blair decreed with a small nod of her head.

Serena followed them to a corner table, and wasn't surprised when Nate appeared out of nowhere. She didn't need the coddling.

How could she be sad when everything was _right?_

Maybe Carter wasn't here, but she wasn't too worried about that. There wasn't a lot that Serena was certain of. But if the hundred boys she'd let touch her skin had taught her anything, it was that Carter Baizen would be back.

She'd come back in hopes of easing into her old life; of picking up the pieces that she'd left scattered. But the picture had changed when she wasn't looking. It had grown in ways she didn't understand, had edges too sharp to touch, holes too big to big fix.

And she wouldn't break that picture for anything.

But the pieces were all here. And maybe they didn't look the same, but they felt just as good. The pieces just needed a little...tweaking, a little flexing, some further assembly.

She stood next to Nate as the crowd said their goodbyes to the honeymooners. Hugging Chuck tightly, she was the only one except for Nate and her mother game enough to try it. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," she whispered huskily into his ear. They grinned at each other, both knowing the unsaid punch line to that joke.

Sliding her arms around Blair's neck, she tried to savour the feel. If the goodbye kiss she pressed into the bride's lips was a little too lingering, too friendly, had a little too much tongue, well, no one noticed.

Okay, they noticed.

But who would dare say anything?

She clung tightly onto Nate as Chuck held the limo door open for Blair and her enormous dress. She laid her head on Nate's shoulder, a dreamy sigh leaving her lips.

It really was a pretty picture.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

_Fin._

**End Note: I know it all seems so ...**_**shifty, **_**even my love of ambiguity and open-endedness thinks so. My only excuse is I have this idea for a pseudo sequel thingy (whoever mentioned the C/B/S threesome wouldn't be too far off lol) and I didn't want to write myself into a hole. When I either write or trash this other Serena/Chuck thing I'm thinking about, I may actually do it.... **

***must now get into the holiday spirit (read**_**: spirits**_**)***

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ******s2********Happy Holidays All!**** ****s2**** **Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ


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